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Mafia Proverbs

"All Power To The Proverb!" "All Hail The Ragnarok Law Mafia!" Asha Exodia is at the beginning of his chosen path since reaching The Law's Maturity. His sights are set on the highest pinnacle that The Family has to offer, and will not let anything or anyone hold him back. However, is there something lurking deep within the psyche of the determined sixteen year old? It is witnessed by his Prodigal Family, but is without answers to the beast's existence. Even still, his apotheostic potential is too great to be halted or denied. Watch as the legend becomes.

QuanieFSpace_XX99 · Urban
Not enough ratings
21 Chs

Chapter 3: 100 Spears (Heaven, Hell, Limbo) (II)

The roar of the truck was signal enough to proceed forward as the golden beast reversed into the shaved shrubbery, the SUV held up poorly again the grain beneath us driving on. I'm just hoping that the sleet and wet terrain doesn't become an issue when we reach the hill, so I'll continue on slowly to be cautious.

We had approximately seven miles to go from this point.

Snipers in five miles.

Snipers in three miles.

Snipers in one mile.

The roads to the cabin was mostly paved to handle the harsh It weathers of the snow fed city.

So regardless, we should be able to get transport somewhere if any problems occur. It may even make more sense to reverse while I can and have the gushing Major back there request for transport to our destination.

I looked towards Smoke's silly fucking sleeping face again, the corner of my lips raising subconsciously as the F350 became smaller in the rearview mirror.

Keeping my wits in the front of my conscious, the back of my mind was littered with memories of me and this man.

"You're sixteen now, Fathead. THIS is when you call yourself a man." I playfully whispered to him while maneuvering my vision on the road, teasing the sleeping African about the many times he would boast of manhood even before he was of age.

He was my man, though.

The pillow talk we had while entangled was regarding this very day, whether or not he would branch out to add another arm to The Ragnarok Law.

The same thing as he father did.

The same thing Our Mother, his mother wanted him to do.

Or if he would pursue The Jack like me, becoming a Gimp right beside me.

Of course that's what I'd naïvely hope for my current beloved.

Yet, whenever the conversation would persist there was never any real indication from Asha whether anything we suggested was even hinting towards the decision.

He would simply stare up at the ceiling, usually accommodated with an open window to the stars he loves observing.

With a simple hum of the present analysis, Smoke decadently grabbed both of my cheeks before he would kiss the middle of my forehead, then kiss the tip of my nose, and would finally kiss my lips as he's done so many times already. The slick bastard would then coerce me inside his arms tightly from behind, spooning up close to me with the kind of gravitation I couldn't fight off even with my flyssa. Of course I knew that it was partially a defensive mechanism than just an intimate display of affection, I couldn't call myself the senior in our relationship without knowing such things.

But… Could I fight the feeling?

Not even with my flyssa.

Asha's energy was always warm during those expressions.

Always.

His body was consistently as soft, as…plush as whatever bed we laid on.

His kisses were more decadent behind those closed doors and open emotions.

And probably the most satisfying was how his clutching arms would never release their latch no matter how long I slept. It could've been five hours longer than him or even five days longer, my eyes would open to his grasp and gaze every time.

They always felt like sanctuary.

Always.

!SKRRRT!

Delving too deeply in the memory made me lose myself for a second, Mother Nature almost punished me for being defeated. The unprepared tires seemed to slip off traction due to my negligence, probably because I got a little lead footed there while reminiscing. It was a good thing we didn't drift off course or into any of the surrounding trees, catching the traction and steadying the alignment of our drive.

Checking on Asha and his Proxy, it looked as though they may have jerked around just a little. Both of them seemed to remain unconscious to the slight blunder, Smoke still drooling down his chin with the nine year old cuddled and coddled on his chest.

I noticed the carton protruding from his coat pocket, tempting the Fiend Of Trespassing Carnality, how my Fray Tutor would portray it, reminding my discipline as I retracted my reach. If there were any form of personal or Progenitor evaluations today based on my adaptation to a rapidly diverse circumstances, I'd fail the day without even attending the mandatory two-a-days. Now I'm allowing myself to be drawn in by the vices that captured me before, trying to rely on anything that could stifle the moments with Asha that were severed in one swing.

Then, as if vengeful by nature, that very same Smoke invaded my mind once again.

Staring ahead at the path I took us on, a piece of the past Astro projected the moment when I first found out that Asha was smoking, at thirteen years old mind you. Holding the EMBERED COSMOS lighter to the tip of the pre-rolled flower, Smoke never saw it coming when I plunged my short tooth flyssa towards the legal energy protruding from his lips. He didn't flinch an eyelash while lazily staring at the severed clover stick, never releasing his finger from the ignition.

"What. The FUCK. Is it that you think you're doing?!" I interrogated the brazen him with my baby flyssa remaining erect.

"Good morning to you, too, O.K." He sarcastically greeted me after letting out burdened sigh, presumably to attack the ethics I approached the situation with. Once he removed the severed clover stick from his lips, he turned in his desk chair towards me. The young Sierra Leone-Mexican didn't even flinch as the short tooth slid across his cheek.

For a minute, he simply looked up at me with his chrome flavored gaze without shifting expressions, or more so inside me like he was attempting to invade my thoughts. It was evident that he was waiting for me to withdraw my flyssa before acknowledging my interrogation, almost as though his steel stare was clashing with my steel sword.

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